


hey, my love

by nevershootamockingbird



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Introspection, Modern AU, Painting, Sappy, Soft Mornings, Trans Beauregard (Critical Role), Trans Character, starts to get a little dirty right at the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-12 18:33:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18016148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nevershootamockingbird/pseuds/nevershootamockingbird
Summary: She wakes to a cool liquid being stroked over her back, soft bristles dragging just firmly enough not to tickle. She lets out a soft sigh, burying her his head further into her arms before twisting her face towards the crook of an elbow, voice muffled as she asks, “What are you doing?”“Don’t move,” Jester chides, and Beau feels fingers slide over the buzzed section of her hair for a fleeting moment of affection before they are gone. Her skin feels a little tacky, paint drying over most of her shoulders and upper back; the tiefling shuffles down the bed a little, her knees bumping against the outsides of Beau’s thighs, before settling again, and then there’s another stroke of her paintbrush along the dip of her spine.





	hey, my love

**Author's Note:**

> Jester needs to practice painting; you think Beau would be used to waking up like this by now
> 
> Modern au, no spoilers, you don't need to be caught up! Mostly tame until the last five paragraphs, nothing explicit happens but it starts to get a little steamy at the end if that's something you're not interested in!
> 
> Beau and Jester are in love, what else is new?

She wakes to a cool liquid being stroked over her back, soft bristles dragging just firmly enough not to tickle. She lets out a soft sigh, burying her his head further into her arms before twisting her face towards the crook of an elbow, voice muffled as she asks, “What are you doing?”

“Don’t move,” Jester chides, and Beau feels fingers slide over the buzzed section of her hair for a fleeting moment of affection before they are gone. Her skin feels a little tacky, paint drying over most of her shoulders and upper back; the tiefling shuffles down the bed a little, her knees bumping against the outsides of Beau’s thighs, before settling again, and then there’s another stroke of her paintbrush along the dip of her spine. 

Beau sighs again, cracking one eye open to see soft sunlight slanting through curtains onto Jester’s pillow beside her. She clears her throat, keeping her voice low as not to disturb the peace as she asks again, “What are you doing?”

“I know you’re kinda slow when you first wake up, but, like, that’s a pretty obvious answer,” Jester teases softly, and Beau groans quietly, can hear the smile in her words.

“Okay, fair,” she admits, finally blinking both eyes open. “What are you painting?”

“The sun rising over the sea. Your eyes looked  _ so _ blue last night, it was all I could think about,” she explains, and Beau feels the back of her neck turn a dull red. She grumbles into her arm, and Jester laughs above her, bright and airy. 

They settle back into comfortable silence as the laughter dies away, and Beau fights to keep her eyes open, drowsiness settling back into her bones like smoke in a chimney. The uneven strokes of paint on her back are soothing, familiar, as is the weight of Jester settled over her thighs. 

Quiet mornings like these, she decided months ago, are unquestionably her favorite. 

She begins to hum low in her throat, more in effort to stay awake than anything, but it isn’t long before Jester picks up a melody, singing softly as she continues to paint. Beau falls quiet, recognizing the tune as a lullaby of her mother’s, and takes the chance to listen, the last dredges of sleepiness slipping away. 

“Beautiful,” and she doesn’t mean to murmur it, but it’s true, always has been, always will be. Jester keeps singing, but her fingers slide through her hair again, a gentle caress that carries more love in it than most words do, Beau thinks. 

The lullaby turns into a sea shanty turns into a drinking song she remembers Fjord teaching them one night, rowdy and bawdy enough that she has to struggle not to laugh over some of the lines, worried about messing up the painting if she moves even a little. By the time Jester finally stops, giggling breathlessly to herself, she can feel her dragging the brush just above the waistband of her boxers with a flourish. She hopes it will never stop being endearing that her girlfriend signs each piece of art she creates over her skin. 

“There! All finished, thank you, Beau,” she says, sugar sweet, and Beau laughs quietly, holding herself still as her girlfriend carefully caps her paints and clambers off of her. 

“Thanks, Jessie. You wanna take a picture before I wash it off?” She asks, slowly turning her head to left to watch the other woman dump her paints onto her desk across the room. There’s an exaggerated pout on her mouth as she turns back to face her, but it morphs into a grin as she catches sight of the smile that has crinkled the corners of her eyes. 

“Of course I do! Hold still, I gotta take a couple, find the right angle, you know.” She stretches her arms up over her head, tank top riding up as she does, and Beau takes a moment to admire her girlfriend shamelessly. Jester winks before padding back over to the bed, grabbing her phone off the nightstand once she’s close enough. Beau pillows her head on her arms once more as Jester moves to straddle her ass, and the shutter-click of the phone’s camera is a strange comfort as the other woman mutters to herself about lighting and colors. “Okay, there we go! All done. Man, I’m good, this came out great.”

“Yeah, you fuckin’ are. I’m sure it looks great, Jess.” She pushes herself up slowly after Jester moves again, sliding off the bed and straightening with sigh, several vertebrae popping as she does. “You cool if I wash it off now though?”

“Sure, go ahead,” Jester says breezily, dropping her phone back to the nightstand. Her eyes meet Beau’s briefly before dropping, gaze slowly dragging down her bare chest, her stomach and hips and thighs, back up again; by the time their eyes meet again, Beau can feel a familiar heat rising in her cheeks, stirring in her gut. Jester’s smile is entirely too innocent as she takes a step closer, and then another, until she’s pressed right up against her, head tipped up to brush their mouths together, and Beau feels her breath catch in her throat at the sparks that slide through her veins. “You want some company? You might not be able to get it all off by yourself, you know.”

Beau lets out a shaky laugh, nodding as she drops her hands to her girlfriend’s soft hips, squeezing gently. She licks her lips, swallowing against the sudden dryness in her mouth before replying, “I mean, I guess you could probably help.”

“Well, I think I can help you out with something else, too,” she says, suddenly sliding a hand between them to palm Beau’s hardening cock, and Beau inhales sharply, turning her head enough to press a kiss to the dimple in Jester’s left cheek. 

“Oh, I think you definitely can,” she says, and Jester turns her head to catch her mouth in a filthy kiss, grabbing her hands as she breaks away, tugging her along as she walks backwards towards their bathroom. 

Quiet mornings are definitely wonderful, Beau thinks, a little dazed as she watches the sly smile grow across Jester’s face. But what follows after is usually better. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! I loved writing this, I hope you enjoyed it even half as much. 
> 
> Title is from the song "Talia" by King Princess, which is very very sad but I love the sadness in the first line so I had to use it! Plus, super gay, which means I really had to use it. 
> 
> Thanks again for reading!! You can find me on [tumblr](https://nevershootamockingbird.tumblr.com) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/daleytwin1) if you feel like yelling with me about these lovely characters (or anything else, really).


End file.
